


(your vulnerable sections marked in red)

by mrozin



Series: sagukai creations challenges [2]
Category: Magic Kaito
Genre: M/M, ill update them as things happen. characters too, summary and rating and archive warnings all subject to change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-10
Updated: 2019-04-10
Packaged: 2020-01-11 03:58:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18422352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrozin/pseuds/mrozin
Summary: Mind Link: the fic





	(your vulnerable sections marked in red)

**Author's Note:**

> i actually like this idea a lot and wanna run with it so for the sake of pacing and also my poor time management consider this a small introductory taste. unedited again
> 
> title is from margaret atwoods “they are hostile nations”

Heist night went as heist nights do; chaos, crime, and a healthy dose of humiliation. The Task Force has long since made note of Kid’s fondness for rooftops—his glider cape and natural showmanship persuade him to frequently err on the side opposite caution—but with the rest of the Force sticky-bombed to random walls and surfaces, tonight’s final showdown is in Saguru’s hands. 

He bursts through the conveniently lockpicked access door and finds Kid balanced precariously on the roof’s ledge. Cape a river of white rippling behind him, he pinches the gem between his thumb and forefinger, holding it up to the moon. It’s a ritual he performs every gem heist. 

Saguru expects him to give a weary little sigh and immediately deflect that edge of genuine emotion with some infuriatingly smug and clever departure, as is the way of things. But tonight is different.

Kid brings his arm down and stands still. Saguru catches the roof door as it swings back his way and shuts it softly, eyes on the set of Kid’s deceptively broad shoulders. He’s not sure he’s ever seen the thief minus his trademark motion-blur.

“Kid?” he calls quietly.

Kid doesn’t respond but for the barest tilt of his head. Saguru comes up beside him slow, extremely conscious of the disproportionate ratio between shoe-touching-ledge and shoe-touching-thin-air-bleeding-Christ-why-does-he-do-that. Also of how badly he’s disgracing his profession with all of this pathetic split loyalty shite.

What can he do about it, though? Kid—Kuroba—is so tangled in the mess he’s made of his life Saguru just can’t let him alone, and he’s beginning to think Kuroba doesn’t want him to. The way he makes a point to catch Saguru’ attention, to squabble with him in class, to always be loudly and annoyingly _present_...he might as well be screaming, _Look at me! Help me! I’m right here!_

Saguru has never been able to ignore a cry for help. Not once.

He stands with his head not even reaching Kid’s shoulders, growing surer by each passing second without sound or movement that something is horribly wrong. Not for the first time, he takes a moment to appreciate the cityscape from Kid’s preferred vantage point. It would almost be peaceful if not for the dread building in his stomach. 

Surprising, that. Peace is one of the few words Saguru suspects Kid doesn’t hold in his extensive vocabulary...but that’s a thought for another day. He has matters to attend to. Ready to face whatever the hell is going on here now that he’s had the opportunity to center himself, Saguru turns his head. 

He sucks in a sharp breath. The Kaitou Kid is crying. 

After a moment Kid meets his eyes with no attempt to hide the state he’s in, probably spurred on by Saguru’s embarrassingly loud gasp. The dim light of the moon is just enough to reveal the wetness of his cheeks.

“Look at this,” he demands in a wrecked voice.

Saguru can’t deny him, sounding like that. He nods, attempting valiantly to push past the shock of being allowed a peek behind the mask, and watches as Kid holds the gem up again. Unremarkable except for its size, the gem itself isn’t what draws Saguru’s attention. Rather, it’s the pinprick of red he can see from somewhere in it, growing bigger and brighter each second it’s held to the moon’s face. 

The red light bounces from facet to facet within the gem, large enough now to be a beam—several beams—crossing over and through each other until the entire gem, once white, shines scarlet. Saguru stares, entranced. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 

He can’t blink. It doesn’t bother him. His eyes burn. 

In tandem, he and Kid turn to each other; Kid on the ledge with his back to the sky, Saguru firmly on the ground but with his face tilted up. Without thinking, without consideration, as though he meant to do it all along, Saguru reaches up. He stands on his toes, pulls Kid’s face down to his, and lays a gentle kiss over each eye. 

Kid does the same, his gloves soft on Saguru’s cheeks, lips even softer on his eyelids. When he pulls away Saguru blinks his eyes open. He watches Kid’s tongue flick out over his bottom lip, nose wrinkling at the salt of Saguru’s tears. 

For a few finite seconds he feels content, wholly and entirely, in a way he never has before—at peace, with himself, and with the cosmos, and with his place in it. 

And then his good sense comes flooding back. Words cannot describe how perturbed Saguru feels, but he tries to express himself anyway. 

_“What in the bloody f—”_

“No clue,” Kid says, wide-eyed. 

They look down at the gem, cradled in the suede of Kid’s palm, and it’s...gone. It’s gone.

“Kid,” Saguru says slowly, “where is the gem.”

Kid visibly shakes himself back into character. “Aren’t you the one who’s supposed to solve the mysteries around here, Detective?”

Saguru shoots him a poison glare and he smirks.

“Oh, alright, don’t look at me like that,” Kid says, flicking his wrist dismissively. Saguru hones in on the movement but is distracted as Kid keeps talking. “I’m not sure where it’s gone to. I suppose I’ll be handing in a rain check for the return of the night’s target. Tragic...have fun explaining to my dear Nakamoru-keibu!”

And then he gives a little backward hop and drops from the roof’s ledge. He’s vanished by the time it takes Saguru to run to the edge and peer down, of course. 

Saguru breathes deeply to calm his frantic heart—Kid’s more death defying shenanigans are going to give him grey hairs, he knows it—and makes his way into the building, absently puzzling over what role Kid's wrist flick had played in his escape. He finds Nakamori-keibu by following the echo of enraged bellowing rising up from the ground floor. Stepping into the room where a good percentage of the Force was caught by Kid’s traps is...an experience. The Inspector tears into him from his authoritative position of being pinned to a wall by neon pink goo. 

“Radio silence! For _twelve minutes!_ ” he roars. “No report whatsoever! Why didn’t you call in?”

Dazedy, Saguru says, “Something strange happened.”

Nakamori-keibu flings an arm out at the men sticky-bombed against any and all nearby surfaces. “Stranger than _this?_ ”

Saguru blinks at him. 

“Kid kissed me,” he says. Only then does it truly register. His hands go over his mouth in a subconscious imitation of Baaya; he can only imagine how red his face is. “Kid _kissed_ me!” 

Silence. Then an eager voice by the door.

“Kaitou Kid kissed you just now? Is that correct?”

Saguru turns. A reporter, camera rolling, stands at the building’s door. Her microphone is pointed at him accusingly. 

“...Er,” Saguru says from behind his hands. 

Reporters for other stations and papers pop up from the woodwork, shouting questions. Saguru eyes them with dawning horror. He’s going to regret the past minute and a half for the _rest of his life._

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on my tumblr [mrozind](https://mrozind.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
